


A Momentary Lapse

by The_Last_Kenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, I Have A Bad Feeling About This, I really am, I'm so sorry, do not come here for happy feels, graphic death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Last_Kenobi/pseuds/The_Last_Kenobi
Summary: We all have narrow brushes with misfortune and tragedy. Some more close than others.The duel of the fates, with a fatal mistake.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	A Momentary Lapse

In another universe, the older Jedi may have taken a red blade to the stomach and perished, while the younger would have claimed a violent victory that ended in tears.

That is not what happens here.

The Dark figure—the Sith—presses his advantage. He is young and agile and well-trained, and he backs away slowly, drawing the Jedi in his wake. The younger one seems distracted, off balance. There is something flashing behind his blue-green eyes.

A vision?

Simple terror?

Still, he keeps fighting. He will not leave his Master’s side, not by choice—

The elder does not slow when his Padawan is kicked roughly over the edge and into oblivion.

A moment later, however, he gasps.

The Sith feels it too.

 _Death_.

Resounding through the Force.

The Padawan had missed the platform below him and cracked his skull on the next. He’s dead, and now there is only one Jedi between Darth Maul and victory.

It will not be difficult. The Jedi Master is slowing down, weighed by age and possibly by the shock of having a training bond torn out of his head. Even the idea of the pain radiating inside the tall man’s mind makes the Sith smile, tasting blood on the air. Extasy.

Unfortunately for him, his Dathomirian heritage and his Dark upbringing work against him. His youth works against him.

Distracted by his lust for pain and the smell of blood, Maul allows himself to slip—

—the verdant green lightsaber severs off both his hands and then slams into his bare skull, sending him instantly into unconsciousness.

The Jedi Master picks up the double-bladed saber; deactivates it and pockets it.

And then he runs.

Back up the catwalk, leaning over, looking down—

He can’t see from here.

Qui-Gon Jinn leaps down and lands neatly on the platform below, and then springs off from there down to the next one.

As he falls, he sees a red streak on the metal he just leapt off of.

He lands directly next to the body of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

His skull was cracked open by the impact. By both impacts.

He must have hit the first platform, then the second, head-first.

Red billows out from under his copper-blonde hair, staining the platform, staining his white robes. The Master kneels silently beside him, and simply stares.

_I have a bad feeling, Master._

_Keep your mind on the present moment, Padawan._

Qui-Gon carefully lifts the broken body up into his lap. Blood and brain matter wash out across his legs, the floor—there is a terrible, tiny gushing noise—Obi-Wan’s head rolls listlessly in his lap and his mouth hangs a little open. 

There is a moment of deep silence.

Qui-Gon Jinn forgets about the Sith. He forgets about the shadow in his history that went by the name Xanatos. He forgets about the sun-browed child somewhere above who is depending on his continued good favor.

He forgets about everything except all the red, sticky substance that is erasing Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And he screams.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm...sorry?


End file.
